Once Upon A Dream: A Collection of SherLoki AUs
by piratewitch92
Summary: A collection of SherLoki AU one shots ranging from Hogwarts to Star Wars to Hunger Games. Some Stand Alones and interconnecting ones.
1. Bumping Into Each Other: Hogwarts AU

**Hogwarts AU I **

Sherlock Holmes typically did not pay much mind to the throng that clogged Hogwarts's halls. He was far too engrossed in his textbooks and studies of choice; today's being on the art of Occlumency. Not a skill he found particularly useful but he was running out of reading material and people to hone his deduction skills on. As it was, the curious Ravenclaw was about to graduate to the Restricted Section of the Library for new subjects, having bored through the books available freely to all. If only he could convince any of his teachers to give him permission to do so… So far every teacher he had asked had shook their heads in what could only be described as sheer terror. As if they feared he was actually going to attempt to practice forbidden spells and curses on his fellow students. Actually… that was a very viable concern.

The Ravenclaw couldn't pursue a curse list for very long, however, as he collided book-first with another body. A flash of Gryffindor Scarlet whizzed past him as Sherlock's back and skull made contact with the stone floor, causing the teen to groan in pain. He was vaguely aware of two voices trying to communicate with him but his mind was far too muddled to comprehend what exactly they were saying. The only clear thought in his mind was to add whoever was cackling like a hyena to his Curse List. When a pair of gentle hands guided him into a sitting position, he didn't resist, far too focused on the shooting pain in his skull. Optimistically, it felt as though he had a small concussion. However, his mind had pushed the pessimistic diagnosis into the fog.

"Are you okay?" Sherlock had to blink several times to bring the speaker into focus. A pair of emerald eyes were looking down at him with concern. "Can you hear me? Thor, stop laughing! He could be seriously injured you oaf!" The young wizard thought he should give his rescuer some sign that he was alright – or at least conscious – but he found himself captivated by the pale features before him.

"I'm sure he's fine, Loki. He's just stunned, is all. Besides it was an accident."

"He's not responding. We should take him to the infirmary." The pale speaker, now identified as Loki, proceeded to help Sherlock, only to steady him with his body when the floor began to tilt beneath the Ravenclaw. The one Loki called Thor seemed more concerned by this action.

"Perhaps you are right, brother." He had finally stopped laughing, now assisting Loki in keeping Sherlock steady. Meanwhile, the Ravenclaw was trying to figure out where he had heard those names before.

"Loki…? Thor…?" He knew those names. Why did he know those names?

"Sorry, yes that's our names. I'm Loki," Loki pointed to himself as he spoke then to his companion. "And this is my brother, Thor. Don't worry; we're just trying to help."

"You… you're the Odinsons, aren't you?" Despite the pounding persistent there, Sherlock's mind was beginning to clear a tiny bit. "Wealthy family, right?"

"Despite the idiots of our bloodline." Loki rolled his eyes but flashed Sherlock a dazzling grin. "You must be feeling a bit better."

"Between poundings… Those stone floors can do quite a number on one's brain." Sherlock winced as his curious hand made contact with an impressive knot on the back of his head. "I should pay more attention to where I am going."

"I ran into you, not the other way around. I should be apologizing to you," Loki countered, easing the boy onto one of the hospital beds. "Well, my brother and I should be."

"He got dragged away five minutes ago. By his quidditch buddies I'd say," Sherlock elaborated when Loki looked around in confusion. "You didn't notice?"

"Pretty face distracted me." Sherlock's face turned blood red at that. Loki hadn't looked at anyone except him during their journey here. There was a small chance the Slytherin had caught sight of a pretty little thing out of the corner of his eyes. The younger Odinson was known to be quite a flirt. Something about Loki's smirk suggested otherwise, however. "I do have a weakness for baby blue eyes."

"Are… are you flirting with me…?"

"Do you see any other blue eyed beauties here?"

"Five. Two potion mishaps, one backfired spell, and two suffered an unfortunate encounter with a blast ended skewrt."

"They're all girls."

"You like girls."

"I like anyone with a nice face. Though I don't usually run them over to get their attention." Loki's smirk morphed into an amused chuckle as Sherlock's face turned blood red again. "No, I'm not looking at the girls." Sherlock gulped, suddenly at a loss for words. "Not used to another boy hitting on you are you?"

"Nobody ever 'hits on' me." Most students – and one or two teachers – thought he was an ass.

"I've been trying to get your attention for weeks."

"Really?" Loki laughed, his emerald eyes glittering with amused mischief.

"You're quite oblivious, aren't you? I've been watching you for months in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"You have?"

"Yes, but you always either have your head buried in the textbooks or are correcting the teacher. Which you do quite adorably, by the way."

"What the hell am I supposed to say to that?!" was the only thing Sherlock could say, completely stunned by everything Loki had just said. He immediately regretted it though as Loki's face instantly drooped and dimmed as if hurt. Contrary to popular belief, Sherlock wasn't completely heartless. Just the shock of the Slytherin's confession and flirtations had completely sideswiped him. "Look… I didn't mean… You just… OW!" Sherlock groaned as his hands flew to his head which had started pounding yet again, this time harder than before.

"Easy, easy…" Loki cooed gently, carefully pushing Sherlock to lie down on the hospital bed. "You're hurt and I did just give you a lot to think about. You need to rest."

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't be just yet. You get better then we'll worry about this." He gave Sherlock a conspirator wink. "I'm sure you're in very good hands now anyway." Sure enough, Madame Pomfrey was trotting up to meet them. "Don't worry, Sherlock Holmes. If you want to, we will see each other again," Loki assured as he leaned close to Sherlock, slipping something into the pocket of his vest. The disoriented young wizard actually leaned in as Loki's lips brushed against his cheek. "Till next time, handsome." And with that Loki sauntered off, only stopping long enough to explain what happened to the flustered nurse.

It wasn't until after a nice long nap that Sherlock finally discovered what Loki had left in his pocket. It was merely a scrap of parchment with a date, time, and directions to the Slytherin common room (which he didn't need as he had the school's layout memorized) scribbled in the neatest script Sherlock had seen from a fellow fifth year. The note was sealed with a Slytherin green kiss mark, probably acquired from a female friend. Those house pride lip glosses were all the rage right now. The Ravenclaw found himself smiling at the freshly scribbled addition to the note. _Let your head heal a bit first. I like my men of sound mind. _"Oh why not? The teen years are for experimenting after all."


	2. The First Dance: Hunger Games AU

**The First Dance: Hunger Games AU**

_Sherlock had always expected this moment to come one day. But he never could have expected it to wait until he was almost home free. "John Watson!" Or that his best friend would be the one reaped for the Hunger Games instead of him. Thus his next action was entirely instinctual. _

"_I volunteer as tribute!" John did not deserve such a fate as this. Despite despising the Capitol with a burning passion, Sherlock's most faithful friend had served dutifully as a variant of a Peacekeeper for District 3 for as long as Sherlock had known him. Now he was training to be a healer which their area desperately needed. Hell, the whole District needed John too much for him to risk dying in the Games. But they didn't need an ass like Sherlock himself. _

"_Sherlock," John pleaded as Sherlock made his way to the stage, grabbing his arm. "You don't have to do this. Please."_

"_It's too late, John." _

"_The District needs you."_

"_Let. Go." He hated being so cold to his only friend. But Sherlock had made his choice. He yanked his arm out of John's grasp. They would have plenty of time for the final goodbyes in a bit anyway. Mycroft certainly wouldn't wish him luck after this stunt. The youth simply had to keep himself from looking back at John. They both knew even with Sherlock's almost inhuman intellect and deductive reasoning the odds of him coming out of the Games were slim. And he had worked far too hard to build his emotionless reputation. If he turned to look at his friend now, one or both of them may do something they'd both regret…_

That was almost a year ago. Now Sherlock was sitting in the luxury car provided by the "generous" Capitol, being driven towards the President's Victor Ball in his honor. Sherlock could really care less about this whole scene really. If he had his way he would curl up in a nook with one of President Snow's and hide from everyone in the party. Sure he was a bit of a show off by nature but something about the ostentatious people in the Capitol just bored or irritated him.

"Now, Sherlock, remember everything I told you. Smiles and manners need to abound! Oh and try not to do that invasive reading trick thingy you do." The young victor ignored his liaison, Andus, continuing to watch the perfectly poised trees and shrubs pass by. "Sherlock." He didn't answer. "Sherlock Holmes, are you listening to me?" Sherlock rolled his icy eyes at the Capitol assigned pest.

"No, I'm not. And that 'invasive reading thingy' is called deduction. It's not my fault everyone is so easy to read here."

"Yes well none of that," Andus reminded as he used his window to smooth a stray eyebrow into place. "It's rude and makes people very uncomfortable."

"So do overzealous Peacekeepers." He ignored the shock gasp-squeak hybrid Andus produced. He had always been an outright verbally opposition of the Capitol but he was so useful and helpful to District 3's Peacekeepers that they would usually look the other way and pretend they didn't hear him. He was certainly going to be very popular.

"Sherlock, I don't know what it's like in District 3, but here in the Capitol you _cannot _say things like that."

"I'm a victor now, Andus. It's not like President Snow can do much to me without incurring the Capitol's wrath."

"Sherlock! You absolutely cannot say things like that! I understand you miss your beau but-"

"Oh for heaven's sake! John is not my boyfriend!" The District 3 victor practically leaped out of the car once they had finally reached the Presidential Palace. The teen genius wasn't quite sure how it had happened, but the Capitol was now convinced Sherlock was madly in love with John. Not that they were related but they were in a romantic relationship. Which, of course, only provided Sherlock with another if somewhat shallow reason to dislike the Capitol. As if his current bright silver metallic suit wasn't reason enough.

"Whatever you say, Sherlock dear."

"Do not call me that."

"Now please be on your best behavior. The youngest Odinson boy has specifically requested to meet you."

"'Odinson?'"

"Why you can't tell me you've never heard of the Odinson family!?"

"Oh yes, because it's so simple for people in the Districts to follow people in the Capitol."

"Why, they are the most powerful family in the Capitol! Under President Snow himself of course. They are almost always able to pick out who will be the victor of the Hunger Games and provide the most support and sponsorship to the tributes. In fact, most of your aid would have most like came from them."

"Oh."

"The two sons usually don't attend these parties though and especially not Loki himself. He's a bit of a recluse which is such a shame he is quite a handsome young man."

"Loki…" Sherlock did remember that the little messages included with the sponsor gifts were all signed with an "L" rather than any of his mentors' initials. "Why would he want to meet me?"

"Well because you're a victor of course! Everyone wants to meet you!"

"There are plenty who would disagree with you in District 3."

"And you are _his_ victor in a way. Rumor has it he went against his family betting on you. I've never heard of him taking such a shine to a tribute before." _His_ victor? Sherlock was now extremely curious about his mysterious benefactor. "He's actually about your age, Sherlock. Perhaps he saw a kindred spirit in you."

"Kindred spirit?" The Victor had to scoff at that one. "What kind of 'kindred spirit' could a Capitol Citizen find with me?"

"Well Loki is a bit of an eccentric loner. He's also a genius from what I've heard, always hidden away with a new book but living under his father and brother's shadows… I imagine he's very lonely…"

"You've never met him?"

"Well no. Like I said he keeps to himself most of the time. This is the first I've even heard of him attending a ball for a victor."

"Really now?" Most Capitol Citizens were ridiculous party animals from what Sherlock had gathered watching them. As Andus guided him around the various shades of blue, purple, and black (Sherlock knew he would regret telling Flickerman his favorite colors), the young genius contemplated what his mysterious sponsor must be like. The idea of a reclusive Capitol Citizen… It was somewhat like watching a dog walk on his hind legs. Rare and unbelievable. So naturally he did not realize when he had stumbled upon the surprising citizen.

Sherlock had finally been released from Andus's guided tour of boredom and had anchored himself to the bar, gasping for air. "I don't care what you give me… Just make sure its ice cold…" He told the bartender, tugging on his collar. Capitol Couture didn't breathe and Sherlock was cooking in his (literally) metal suit. The boy was very tempted to just strip there and now in front of everyone. Wouldn't Andus just loooove that.

"Here. On me." A tall glass of ice and water was slid into his line of sight. "Looks like you could use this."

"Thank you." With that, Sherlock downed the drink in one fell swoop, relishing the refreshing cold. "Aah… I needed that."

"I could tell. Your face was a tomato. If that is one of Rosaline's designs, I know she cares very little for the wearer's comfort," the velvety voice replied.

"'Beauty is pain and pain makes beauty,'" Sherlock squeaked in his best imitation, turning to meet his current source of hydration. "That's her mot… to…" The pale youth before him wore a smirk at Sherlock's speechlessness.

"Ah yes. So I've heard. That makes me feel all the more sorry for her tributes." The Victor wanted to make a snide comment that tributes had more pressing matters to worry about, but the normally unflappable teen was still slightly stunned by the handsome visage before him. Emerald eyes glittered with mischief, as if enjoying Sherlock's stunned silence. He was dressed in a simple black suit accented by an emerald and gold tie. His face was framed by slicked back jet black hair. "Do I leave you speechless, Mr. Holmes?"

"Only because you dress so… Normally." The youth raised a thin eyebrow, surprised.

"Normally? Based off a boy wearing a tin suit?"

"I did not choose this suit. And you're not wearing a bird or a gear."

"Oh of course not. I look far better without the gimmicks and I am very much hoping you do too." Sherlock nodded in agreement with how the youth looked but frowned at the knock to his current outfit. "Now, Mr. Holmes. Would you care to dance?"

"Are you flirting with me? Why, I don't even know your name." This banter was a bit pointless. They both knew Sherlock was going to dance with this mysterious stranger. It would certainly dispel any rumors on if he was dating anyone or not. "And haven't you heard? I'm a taken man."

"Oh don't be coy you. We both know that fop is not your boyfriend. You, good Mr. Holmes, are a free agent and I shall dance with you if I so please. So cut the games and let's dance." With that, the mysterious youth dragged Sherlock onto the multicolored dance floor, easily weaving through the crowd.

"I still don't know your name! And won't it look odd, two handsome young men dancing together? People might talk." The youth flashed him a blindingly mischievous grin.

"This is the Capitol, my handsome Victor. They don't care. And since I am Loki Odinson, they expect nothing less from me. Although…" Loki tugged Sherlock into his arms, seemingly unaware of the concept of personal space. Not that the victor minded too much. There was a hint of mint wafting from the boy that smelled absolutely heavenly. Just subtle enough to exist but not overpower like the rest of the partygoers. "You'll be my first victor."

"Oh. Well how lucky for me. I'm sure many of the female victors before me would adore you."

"Most of them were idiots. How District 1 won two years ago I'll never know. She had the aim of a drunken chicken and the intelligence of a walnut."

"Isn't your family known for picking the winners?"

"We didn't pick her. Besides, I myself rarely participate in such bets. Far too hit and miss for my refined tastes."

"So… did you bet on me?" Loki grinned, emerald eyes smoldering.

"Indeed I did, Mr. Holmes. Did you enjoy my uh… Love Letters?"

"I enjoyed your food and supplies more."

"I see. You only like me for my money. I put some real thought into those, you twit."

"In my defense, I was fighting for my life. I did not have time for love letters. Though I did keep the pendant you sent me." The tribute reached into his collar and pulled the chain around his neck out, revealing a miniaturized version of the casings sponsor gifts were delivered in. "Proved useful for berries and string." Sherlock did not admit, however, that it currently carried something else Loki had sent inside. That he had kept one of Loki's notes, one which saved his life when he was ready to forfeit the Games…

"I imagine that it'll come quite in handy for you, Mr. Holmes," Loki assured with a knowing grin.

"Sherlock, please."

"…Sherlock then. Suits you much better anyways."

"Why thank you, Loki." Sherlock found himself quite comfortable in his sponsor's arms, swaying through the crowd in time to the sultry waltz. Something about the young man's quick wit and charm just made Sherlock feel right at home in the otherwise unfamiliar setting. Loki seemed to be as much of an outcast as Sherlock was if his simple style and Andus's gossip was anything to go by. "I'm quite fond of it myself."

"So enough about you. How are things in your District? I've never had a chance to visit." And there was the question Sherlock loathed and dreaded most. District 3 was definitely nowhere near as bad off as say District 12 was but they certainly weren't thriving in happiness and butterflies either. But that was what was expected of the Victor to say. To be grateful to the wonderfully generous Capitol. And that was the exact opposite of what he felt. But he had quickly learned that most of the Capitol Citizens genuinely did not realize what was really happening in the Districts. "You don't have to tell me…"

"We're alive." That was all Sherlock could say without getting himself into deep trouble. Lucky for the Victor, Loki seemed to understand, his previous cocky-in-a-sexy-way smirk fading into a more hardened and slightly sympathetic focus. "We're better off than some of the other districts."

"I see." Before the awkward conversation could continue any further, the Capitol Anthem began to play, cuing President Snow's speech. Both Sherlock and Loki joined the applause for Panem's dictator, each equally disappointed for having to be separated. President Snow's speech usually signaled the end of the night according to Andus and Sherlock really wanted to spend more time with Loki. "Here," Loki whispered, slipping something into Sherlock's pocket.

"What's that?"

"Directions to my home. I'm expecting you to visit me often, Mr. Holmes. And besides…" His sponsor turned back to President Snow feigning interest and adoration. "We'll need your help if District life is to improve. And it will soon." Sherlock wasn't quite sure what he meant by that but something about the determined glint of rebellion in Loki's eye told him he would find out soon. "A fire is starting in Panem…"


	3. Little Bird: Star Wars AU

**Little Bird**

_Well… This could've gone better, _Sherlock thought as he was paraded through the dim corridor, flanked by two rows of Stormtrooper guards. Or at least he thought they were Stormtroopers. However, instead of the typical stark white armor, these troopers' uniforms were accented with tints of forest green and gold. Subtle, but bold compared to the usual troops he had encountered on past missions. Never before had he seen such colorful fighters. He didn't think the Empire was fond of color.

But as the mini-brigade drew closer to its destination, Sherlock sensed whoever commanded was not like most of the Empire's cronies. In all honesty, he wasn't completely sure whoever they were meeting _was _part of the Empire. Rumor had been spreading across the galaxy of a mysterious new enemy, a rogue Sith Lord, making himself known. Yet this Sith or his troops were painting over any symbols of the Empire they came across. In fact, the base Sherlock was being escorted through wore such graffiti upon its walls. Not that this mysterious "Trickster" seemed fond of the Rebel Alliance either.

"New orders," One of the Troopers barked, turning to face the rest of the group. "The Trickster wants to see him immediately." This news came as a surprise to the Rebel Spy.

"Were we not meeting this 'Trickster' to begin with?"

"No. All rebel and Empire prisoners are immediately taken into custody for questioning. The Trickster has no time for prisoners."

"Except apparently you," A female voice commented. The mini-brigade parted before the stunning redhead, allowing her access to their prisoner. "He must see something in you, Rebel. Or you're of high rank." The woman gave the Troopers a flirtatious smile, taking ahold of the chain bound to Sherlock's handcuffs. "I'll take it from here, gentlemen. Where are his allies?"

"The only other Rebel got away with one of the Stones, Lady Lorelei." Lady Lorelei became very tight lipped at that.

"I see. Back to your duties."

"Yes, Lady Lorelei." With that, the Stormtroopers took off, leaving the Rebel with his new captor. He figured that this Lady Lorelei must act as a lieutenant to the Trickster based on how the troopers addressed her. Not a difficult a deduction but one that provided a little more insight on his "host." Lady Lorelei wore all black robes similar to a Sith Lord's. But if rumors of the Trickster were true, it was not normal for Sith to ally with one another. So why would the Trickster do so…

The answer was quite simple really, but the "Sith Lord" known as the Trickster still found the Rebel's thoughts and confusion amusing as he watched the scene from his lounge window. His apprentice, Lorelei, was bringing the Rebel prisoner to him on his orders albeit a bit reluctantly. The Trickster, known to a select few as Loki, was well aware of Lorelei's little crush. But he had neither the patience nor time for women who wanted his bed for power. And of course, there was absolutely no trust between them even as master and apprentice.

Loki couldn't deny he got a small amount of pleasure from his apprentice's annoyed jealousy of his prisoner, smirking a little as she kicked him into the room at Loki's feet. "Be gently with our guest, Lorelei. I'd prefer him unharmed please." The apprentice nodded, stepping away from the groaning bundle of Rebel lying at his feet. "Sit up, Rebel."

After a small struggle, the prisoner did manage to sit up on his knees, ice blue eyes glaring daggers through the Sith. Loki had to admit, this rebel was quite the handsome one. He may just have to keep this one all to himself. The prisoner's eyes stood out in stark contrast from between tendrils of midnight black hair. His sharp cheekbones and pale complexion were marred by blood and grime, no doubt from the scuffle with Loki's troopers that brought him here. Something about the Rebel's disheveled state was rather attractive. "Do you have a name, Rebel?" The only response he received was what he had no doubt was a few choice words in Huttese.

"Show some respect, you scum," Lorelei warned as she gave the Rebel a sharp kick in the back. "He asked you a very simple question, worm."

"Lorelei, please. There's no need to berate our guest. He is perhaps still a bit shell shocked from the scuffle." Loki stood, towering over his bound prisoner. A smirk played across his features as the Force – or his manipulation thereof – provided all the information he need. "Sherlock Holmes, is it? Such an interesting name." The look of shock that crossed Sherlock's face sparked a sadistic glee in the Sith Lord's stone heart. The Rebel sighed in resignation.

"I would ask you how exactly you know that but based on the rumors surrounding you I'd say that would be a waste of breath…" Loki chuckled.

"Perhaps. It is only good form that dictated I at least offer you a chance to introduce yourself. You were the one who chose to foul up my presence with such crude curses. As a master of the Force…" Loki noted how Sherlock rolled, clearly one of those queer folk who did not believe in the Force and it's power. "However, I can gather all the information I require with less lip. Now let's see who you are…" A merciless hand dug its way into the prisoner's inky locks, yanking his head back so Loki could better examine him. "Quite the handsome one, aren't you?" The Trickster would have to be careful not to damage this one.

It only took mere moments for Loki to scan and discover the information he desired. "Hmm… A rebel spy and pilot then? So it's a little bird we've captured. You could prove very useful to me. Any stolen secrets of the Empire could prove beneficial." Through his laser focus glare, a flash of shock danced in Sherlock's eyes. "Yet… Where is your partner…? John, I believe it is?" The concerned shock began to drip down onto the Rebel's features though he remained tightlipped.

"The other Rebel fighter managed to escape while this one distracted us," Lorelei explained, glaring daggers through the now smirking pilot. "With… one of the Stones." That made Loki release his prisoner, causing Sherlock to grunt as he flopped onto the unyielding floor.

"How many?"

"They only took one stone, Master."

"No, you twit, how many Rebels were there?"

"It was just John and I." The Rebel explained. "No others." Lorelei scoffed.

"No doubt he's just trying to protect his fellow Alliance scum. I'm sure if we-" A resounding **CRACK **filled the small lounge as Lorelei stumbled back from her master, nursing the bright red mark on her cheek. If she didn't feel her master's fury in that one strike, Loki might have to consider a new apprentice.

"Go secure the other Stones," he ordered through clenched teeth. "I will correct your belief that you can blatantly lie to me later." The young woman was too stunned to move, only angering the Sith Lord further. "Get. Out. Lorelei." With that final hiss, the apprentice scurried out of the room, leaving Loki alone with his prisoner.

This was in no way good. Loki had worked very, very hard to keep the Stones from falling into the hands of either the Rebel Alliance or the Galactic Empire. The last thing he needed was for the Stones to be discovered and stolen by either side. And if his master discovered how the Rebels had stolen a Stone… The Sith shivered at thought of what would await him should this blunder not be corrected quickly.

"So these 'Stones' are important then?" Sherlock's question brought Loki back to the present and his other problem at hand. What to do with his precious Rebel prisoner. He knew exactly what he wanted to do but that would have to wait a little longer now. So he just flashed the captive a grin.

"They are nothing you need worry your pretty little head about, Little Bird." He gently helped Sherlock back to his feet, subtly pushing him towards the chair the Sith had recently vacated. "However, you will be staying here awhile and I need to see to your safety. I can't have you running off this ship from me." Sherlock fell into the chair when it hit his knees, eyes never leaving his hooded captor. "I usually do not hurry into this process but time is now of the essence and-"

"Let me see your face." The request caught Loki off guard. "If you are going to kill me, you can at least be man enough to lower your hood." The Sith Lord froze at that. No one had ever questioned how he kept his face hidden beneath his hood. Very few were actually alive to tell what he looked like, one of whom probably wouldn't recognize him anymore. He knew what monster he was cursed to hide… and he despised it.

"I don't plan to kill you, Little Bird. I never did. So, no. You will not get to see what lies beneath this hood just yet." Loki knelt before the Rebel, tugging Sherlock's shirt from his belt. Normally he would just mark a new citizen's neck or face with his Mark. However, something in his head, which the trickster had thought long since cold, discouraged him from marring the handsome pilot's face. So Loki chose a well hidden spot where Sherlock's side met his hip. "Just relax."

"What the hell are you doing?!" Sherlock tried to wriggle away from Loki's touch, his bound hands and the confinement of the chair making the effort difficult.

"Calm down, Little Bird. Struggle will only make this hurt worse." The Sith kept a firm grip on the Rebel's side, manipulating the Force surrounding both of them to gather in the one spot. The feeling of tense flesh signaled that the marking process had begun. Loki prayed for Sherlock's sake this would be a quick process as the pilot spy was already sweating from the burn marking caused. "Easy… Easy… You're doing beautifully, Little Bird…" He cooed comfortingly.

"Stop… Stop it please…" The man begged through clenched teeth. The normally stoic Sith found himself extremely tempted to do so. When he had probed his captive's memories, he had seen that it took quite a lot to make Sherlock beg like this.

"Shh… Almost done…" Loki assured, keeping his voice as calm and soothing as possible. Despite his own irritation at the fact that the Marking seemed to be hurting Sherlock more than he had ever seen it hurting anyone. "If I stop now… It'll only things worse… Just relax…" He could already feel the flow of energy beginning to ebb, signally the end of the torturous process. He began to gently brush strands of hair from the handsome face in an attempt to comfort him. "You're doing so well… Just a tiny bit more…" Sherlock flinched away from his touch.

"Bastard…" was all he managed to bite out before finally passing out from the pain. Loki sighed. That was hardly the worst thing he had ever been called. And it wasn't exactly untrue. Luckily for Sherlock, the process had finished, and when he lifted his hand away Sherlock's side bore what looked like a fresh tattoo of a snake curled into a figure eight, eating its own tail.

_Well, that is new, _Loki thought as he pushed his hood back. Using the Force like that always left him overheated. But it also meant he had to ignore his reflection in any metallic surface for a while. "Well, let's get you into a room, Little Bird."


End file.
